God, I Hate Shakespeare
by Em Kay Who
Summary: "The remarkable thing about Shakespeare is that he is really very good - in spite of all the people who say he is very good." - Robert Graves


**A/N: Just a silly little story I wrote quickly to cheer myself up. It's inspired by the song of the same title 'God, I hate Shakespeare' from the Broadway musical Something Rotten!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or the musical Something Rotten!**

* * *

"God, I hate Shakespeare."

"What!?"

"You heard me." Rose gave a cheeky smile. Not thirty seconds before they were discussing where they should take the TARDIS next, when the Doctor suggested they go meet the Bard himself.

"B-but... No! You can't!" he sputtered, looking personally offended.

She shrugged. "I do. I just don't get 'im. I mean, who was he? A mediocre actor from some small town who wrote a bunch of gibberish. Mind you, some say he didn't even write that gibberish himself."

The Doctor gasped. "Rose Tyler, you take that back!"

"I will not. You know, I went on a school trip to see one of his plays once and it was so bloody wordy. I swear my bum went numb from sitting for so long."

"You didn't enjoy it at all?"

"Well, the actor playing the lead was a bit alright to look at," she admitted, ignoring his scowl, "but, honestly, the whole thing just made me feel stupid. His words make no sense."

The Time Lord shook his head in disbelief as he began pacing the control room. "How can you say that?" he asked. "William Shakespeare was a genius!"

She scoffed. "His genius was tricking everyone into thinking he was so great, yourself included."

"There was no trickery involved! He's brilliant, more than brilliant! The way the words would just flow from his quill... His poetry." The Doctor paused his movements and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, don't get me started on his poetry. You know, it was rumored at the time that God's own inspiration stuck Will with lightning."

"You're starting to sound just like 'im," she mused dryly.

He sniffed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I wouldn't."

"Roooose."

She giggled at his petulance. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal!?" he practically screeched. "Rose, William Shakespeare was the greatest writer England's ever known."

"In your opinion. Personally, I'm partial to J.K. Rowling. And don't even try to deny that you don't love her. Just a couple of days ago you were crying over the last Harry Potter book," Rose reminded.

"You were crying too," he grumbled.

She nodded. "Yep. Funny, I've never felt like that over any of Billy boy's stories."

"Really? Not even Romeo and Juliet?"

"You're kidding me right?"

The Doctor's bottom lip settled in a full pout as flopped himself down on the jump seat. "Fine."

Moving to sit next to him, Rose grabbed his hand. "Why does this bother you so much? So I don't like Shakespeare and his frilly collar" she shrugged, "who cares? We have all of time and space at our disposal. We can go anywhere... Any when. Meet anybody."

"I just thought it would be a nice trip is all," he told her. "Go catch one of his plays, then track him down, maybe have a pint, pick that brilliant brain of his."

"Tell you what, you should take your next companion. Someone who will truly enjoy meeting him."

The Doctor turned to look at her sharply, his facial expression darkening almost immediately. "Don't say that."

"Don't say what? Despite the way Shakespeare made me feel, I'm not stupid. I know I'm not the last person you'll ever travel with, Doctor," she said softly.

"Rose," he exhaled. "I thought.. After last night..."

She closed her eyes, remembering fondly exactly what had taken place the previous night. Opening her eyes, she met his gaze. "And I meant it. I am going to stay with you for forever. My forever. But when my forever is done, I don't want you to be alone. You shouldn't be alone. So someday, after I'm gone, which will be a ridiculously long time from now, take your new companion to meet Shakespeare, yeah?"

He squeezed her hand. "We'll see." Jumping into to his feet with a mood change that could her whiplash, he began circling the console. "For now, I know just the place to take you. There's this great little market on an astroid bazaar. Oh, you'll love it. Tons of little trinkets and nibbles."

"Sounds good to me," she said, joining him at the console. "I could could get mum a little something while we're there. Do you think we could go see her soon? My laundry's starting to pile up."

"Yeah, don't see why not," he replied, setting the controls for the next destination. "Though, I still don't see why you don't just do your laundry here on the TARDIS."

"Cause it makes mum feel important. Last time I talked to her she said you could add your things if you wanted."

"No, ta! I do not want your mother touching my, my... undercrackers!"

Rose threw her head back and laughed. "Yep. Regular Shakespeare you are."

The Doctor crossed his arms with a frown. "You know, I have a half a mind not to take you to the market."

"Oh, come on, Doctor. Don't get your undercrackers in a twist!" she teased, giving a tongue in teeth green.

"That's it," he growled, lunging for her.

Later, hours, days, years really, Rose would look back on that moment and wish that they had gone to go meet Shakespeare instead of that astroid bazaar. Of course it really would have just been prolonging the inevitable, because no matter what, the Doctor and Rose would have eventually tone back to modern day London to visit Jackie and no matter what, Torchwood would be waiting. At least they would have had a little more time together. One more adventure. Who knew, maybe actually meeting the Bard would have changed her opinion about him. Then again... Probably not. She was curious though...

"Doctor?" she whispered.

"Hm?" The part human/part Time Lord opened his eyes, blinking into the dark of their bedroom.

It had been six months since they'd been dropped off back at Bad Wolf Bay in Pete's world and three months since they began sharing a bed. In his true 'Doctor' fashion, he'd been reluctant to share stories about what he did while they were apart. Not because he wanted to keep secrets from her, but because he didn't want to dwell on those times when she wasn't by his side. Rose understood the feeling completely, but still liked to encourage him to talk about his happy memories with Martha and Donna. It was slow going, but they were starting to make progress with their sharing.

"I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

She licked her lips and asked the question that had been on her mind for some time. "Did you ever go to meet Shakespeare?"

A grin split his face happily. "I did!"

"And? Was he everything you hoped and dreamed about?" she asked, her own smile blossoming.

"Well, he was..."

She waited. 'Was?"

His face fell. "A bit of a tosser actually."

"Oh, no!" she cooed, running a hand down his arm.

"Never meet your heroes, Rose," he told her, sounding as if he was warning her not to trust a Slitheen.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. Who did you end up taking? Martha or Donna?"

He brightened. "Martha, actually. Though Donna and I did meet Agatha Christie!"

"Really? Bet she was fantastic."

"Oh, she was, and I'll tell you all about her, but first, I really should tell you more about Shakespeare."

Rose narrowed her eyes. "But I thought he didn't live up to your expectations."

"True, but the trip as a whole was one for the books." The Doctor sat up eagerly, pulling her into his arms in the process. "To start with, old Bill could give Jack a run for his money in the flirt department. But that's not the part you'll like best."

"And what would that be?" she prompted.

"J.K. Rowling helped save the world."

'Shut up! God, I love Rowling."


End file.
